Wingless Wonders
by Coutelier
Summary: Short stories that mostly centre around the worlds most famous wingless winged elf, Aerie, as the main character, with a little help from friends. Some funny, some sad, some dramatic, all cute.
1. If You Love Them

Welcome, one and all, to a series of short stories that mostly centre around everyones favourite blue eyed, blonde, wingless Avariel who, if you can get over just seeing her blonde hair and all the traits inevitably associated with that (dumbness, fakeness etc) is actually... not dumb or fake, but a very complex character with massive potential for growth and development. And she is the only NPC who really rivals Imoen for cuteness.

Some of these stories are serious, dramatic stuff. Some are silly, and some are ridiculously silly. Some are just insane. There may even be some slash, if you're lucky (nothing explicit though). Enjoy!

**If You Love Them…  
~*~ **

He'd had to let her go.

He knew that was the right thing to do, for her… he supposed he thought he'd be able to carry on the same as he always had after she'd left. But everything felt so different now.

The old gnome went out and performed as indeed he always had, wowing the crowds with his grand magical illusions and technological innovations. The whale swimming through the air above their heads; that had been one of Aerie's ideas. She'd read about them in one of his old books and wanted to see one, and so they'd come up with this whole 'under the sea' routine together. She'd helped him design many of the original new tricks and routines that had made this the most popular circus in Amn and Tethyr. She was exceedingly bright really; he'd thought maybe one day she'd succeed him… but that was not to be. He tried for a long time to encourage her to see the circus the way he did, but she could not. She could only remember the pain and misery it had inflicted on her.

He heard the audience, bowed at their applause… but the joy seemed to be gone. He found he had to force himself to smile. There was a huge crowd tonight, the biggest in a long time. And yet it somehow seemed to him to be so empty… hollow.

Perhaps this was how all parents felt when their children grew up and left; he'd probably never know. He had no real family and was too old to start one now… all he'd had was her…

--

"You're no better than those who kept her in that cage," the old witch, Bentha had said. Quayle had just returned to Nashkell, where the circus had now set up, from a business trip to Baldur's Gate. He'd had interesting encounter with a group of adventurers whom he'd stayed with a while as he made his way back south. They hadn't understood his sense of humour though…

"They treated her worse than they'd treat animals," the old gnome shuddered as recalled the appalling conditions of Aerie's cage… she'd had no room to move and the floor was covered in sorts of filth; and it took her nearly dying before the owners finally decided to do anything about it. "How do you mean I'm no better? I teach her, feed her, take care of her… how am I no better?"

"True enough, you treat her like your very own daughter; maybe that's why you don't see what's become clear to the rest of us… she doesn't want to stay here. Not with the circus, and… not even with you."

"Hmph… she hasn't said anything to me about it," he said, crossing his arms defiantly in the face of the truth. The truth was though, Aerie had been speaking to him less and less lately. When she spoke she sounded distant, and when he spoke she just nodded while her thoughts seemed to be some place else entirely.

"Because she loves you too much; because she thinks you'll be disappointed. She knows you've tried your best to make her happy, but can't you see? It's too much… too much sadness for her here. If you really want to make her happy, then you have to let her go so she can find her own way in the world."

"She just needs time to come to terms with it all…"

"She can't… not in this place. Too many memories… she needs a change of scene, a new perspective. And you know she comes to see me almost every day, don't you?"

"She does?"

"Always asks me to teach her a new spell, then she takes away one of my books to read… she must have read them all about five times now."

Of course, Quayle had been teaching Aerie magic as well; she had practically insisted that he do so. But it wasn't just the illusionary circus magic she'd wanted to learn… she was drawn more and more to the spell books he'd kept from his adventuring days; he wished now that he hadn't. She'd read some of his old journals too and kept asking questions about all the places he'd been, what was it like to fight a demon… she'd even asked if he could teach her to defend herself with a staff… but she was good, sweet girl. That was no life for her.

"So?" he sighed, "what's your point, Bentha?"

"The point is that she's learnt all she can from them," the old witch explained, "that there's nothing more either of us can teach her. It's time for her to go out into the world. If you wait much longer she'll only keep getting more and more anxious and restless…"

It was true that Aerie had been getting increasingly restless, even tense sometimes. She did have a wanderer's soul or an adventurous spirit, didn't she? It was because she'd adventured so far from her home that the young Avariel had been captured and then wound up here… now she was returning to the way she always had been in her soul; an explorer, a wanderer, an adventurer… but…

"She's not ready," the gnome insisted.

"And when will she be ready?" The old witch threw her hands up in despair, "if it's now, next year, or five years… it's not going to make any difference, is it? She's as ready as we can make her…"

"She's not ready," the gnome again insisted, walking out of the tent.

--

He managed to hold on to Aerie for just slightly more than a year longer. And in that time everything Bentha had said came true; the elf became more restless, more anxious with each passing day. And more and more distant from her Quayle… she even stopped calling him 'Uncle' like she used to. Perhaps that was her subtle way of hinting to him that while she was grateful for all he'd done, she just didn't want to be fourteen years old for the rest of her life.

And then, in addition to her arcane studies advancing at a rapid pace, there was the manifestation of God given powers; the gift of healing, the abilities to summon divine strength and protection… could it be that the Gods had chosen his little Aerie for a purpose? That they had made plans for her and wanted her to leave him as well…

Quayle tried to deny it… what of his plans? He could make her happy again, if only she'd listen to him…

But finally something happened that made him see the truth that he couldn't hold on to her any. It was Kalah.

Quayle had seen everything that had happened in the circus tent when Kalah and whatever demon he'd made a pact with took it over. Well, he'd only been able to hear most of it since the evil gnome and taken away his sight for a time. But he'd seen the start of the chaos that night. Kalah had shown what was happening to his beloved, adopted niece as the beasts he'd summoned leapt from the shadows.

Like everyone else trapped in the circus tent that night, Aerie had been scared. But unlike everyone else, she hadn't panicked or tried to run. Instead she showed her courage, balling her little fists determinedly and fighting the beasts with all the magic she had learnt, helping as many as she could to escape. Even when her magic ran out she kept on fighting with her staff before she was eventually overpowered by the monsters.

Even when, the next night, Aerie had been chained within one of Kalah's illusions and a group of adventurers stumbled into her sights, she hadn't asked them for any help. She tried to save them too, warning them to flee.

Quayle was grateful that they were the stubborn type and hadn't listened… but he now realized that Aerie really was an adventurer; it wasn't just what she wanted to be, it was what she was in her heart. Not just the sweet girl he'd always thought of her as.

--

"Uncle Quayle, you're okay!" Aerie knelt down and threw her arms around the gnome.

"Ha! I knew Kalah would trip over himself eventually," he laughed, smiling at her calling him Uncle again. He'd already spoken to the adventurers who had come to their aid and defeated Kalah. When he'd heard their voices he suspected, and when he got his sight back confirmed it; it was the same group he'd encountered near Baldur's Gate. A good sort, he knew… the half-elf lady was bit bossy, but… maybe this was the will of the Gods after all…

"What would I ever do without you?"

The old gnome pushed her back a little, so that he could take in all of her beautiful, but suddenly rather puzzled face.

For all her courage, she of course lacked any actual experience so he couldn't possibly let her go by her self. He'd already spoken to the groups leader, who had also been impressed by her bravery and skill and so agreed it might not be such a terrible burden to guide her.

"I… I think you need to find out my dear," he said at last, "I've taught you everything I can. It's time, Aerie, time for you to learn the rest on your own."

The look on her face said it all; she was the happiest he had ever made her.


	2. Letter Home

This story is a sort of stripped down version of something that was supposed to happen in 'The Twelve Labours of Imoen', after the characters had encountered the schizophrenic Avariel Raptir, posing as a Deva in a village.

**Letter Home  
~*~ **

_Dear Mom and Dad, _

Of course, that wasn't what Aerie had actually wrote. Her parents couldn't read common, so Imoen was translating it with the help of a 'tongues' spell. It had been a trying time lately for them both; Nalia was still quite angry about the accidental destruction of a tapestry and much of the rest of her property. The total cost of replacing it all was, according to Shadow Thief valuations, a lot more than Imoen's life was worth. The red head wasn't sure how to react to that news; on one hand, it was obviously good for her that her friends were able to raise the money to rescue her. But, now she felt kind of cheap.

Anyway, more recently Aerie had been cruelly denied by fate the chance to get word to her parents after so many years. She'd been quiet and pensive all the way back to the keep. Imoen had tried all sorts of things to take her friends mind off it; her Jaheira impression, which for an unprecedented second time that month failed to get even a smile. The funny story about the wizard who made a fatal mistake confusing cedarwood for sandalwood got no reaction either; and that was one they both always laughed at. Who would make such a daft mistake? But although it was unbelievable it was completely true, and that was what made it funny.

But hearing about other people who had died for mislabelling spell components on this occasion didn't stir Aerie one bit, and that had Imoen worried. Aerie was always a thoughtful person; too thoughtful really. She was only digging herself deeper into depression by dwelling on disappointments. In the end, Imoen suggested that she go ahead and write a letter home anyway; sure, they may have no way of delivering it but it might be cathartic for Aerie to get out everything she wanted to say and, one day, who knows.

"It's not the most original opening," the red head commented. Aerie put down her quill and looked about in disbelief, lips pursed and her brows forming a 'V'.

"I-I'm not trying to write a novel," the elf explained, "it's a letter to my parents, and... w-why are you looking over my shoulder anyway?"

"Just curious," Imoen shrugged.

"Well... i-it's a bit... a bit nosey, isn't it?"

"It's not being nosey just to take an interest in people."

"No, but... reading other peoples mail all the time seems to be going a bit far..."

"I just like to know how my friends are doing... it's not a crime is it?"

"The magistrate seemed to think that it was..."

"Okay, it may be a wrong thing to do according to the law, but," Imoen winced for a moment, "actually, I... I don't really have anything to add there. I suppose that is almost the dictionary definition of a crime. But, you're not going to report me, are you?"

"No," Aerie smiled and picked up the quill. Her cheeks to flush slightly as for a long moment it just hovered over the parchment. "I, um... I don't know what to say..."

"See, I knew you'd need my help," the red head said with a grin. She pulled up a chair and sat by the desk. "Now, if I was them, I think the first thing I'd want to know is that you're doing okay and that they don't have to worry anymore."

"I don't know... I don't know if this is really a good idea at all. W-what if they thought I was dead and tried to forget about me. W-wouldn't it just be unfair for me to just suddenly turn their lives upside again after so many years?"

"We've been over this Aerie," Imoen sighed. There were of course many things that could have happened; Aerie had mentioned one. It was also possible they'd tried to find Aerie and maybe gotten themselves captured or killed. The later wasn't so nice to think about, but, "you couldn't just accept that someone so close to you was dead, not unless you saw the proof for yourself, could you? You can't let go until you for sure... so, there's no way they'll have forgotten about you. Certainly wouldn't have given up all hope."

"Yes... I know you're right. But, w-what do I say? Do I tell them everything? About my wings... t-they'd want to know why I'm not coming home to see them, won't they?"

"Like I said, start by letting them know you're actually doing fine and that you're safe then move on to explaining what's happened."

"Well... I-I'm an adventurer... I'm in danger nearly all the time..."

"Don't tell them that... that's not something they'd want to know. And they might try blaming me for it. Tell them you're a witch though... tell them about Edwin patting you on the head and saying you were the second best spell caster he knew. That's bound to impress them even though they won't have ever heard of him."

"Alright," the elf braced herself as she put her quill to the parchment once more, "I'll try..."

_So much has happened in the many seasons that have come and gone since I last saw you. But I need you to understand that I am safe now and with friends who care about me. It was one such friend who urged me to write, should we ever find a means of delivering this letter to you._

_I am alive and well and living in Amn; you probably don't know where that is. It's a long way from Faenya Dail... a nation where humans, elves, gnomes and dwarves all live and share together. There is cruelty here and terrible injustice... the streets in Athkatla, a vast city, are often destitute and dirty. And yet, despite all that... oh, I wish I could show you the many beautiful and wonderful things that I've seen. From the stuttering, chuttering machines of the Gnomes to the ancient glory and splendour of Silver Dragons. And most of all the many good and kind people who try their best always to help others, even when life is hard for them as well._

_But I haven't stopped thinking about you every day. I'm sorry I was such a wild and disobedient child, too curious for my own good. I'm sorry I didn't listen more... I know now I should never have gone flying so far away on my own. And, I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye._

_I can't come home right now... someday I'll find a way I'm sure. I know my friends will do their best to help me. But it's very important I help them too... I wish I could tell you everything, but... just don't worry. I can take care of myself now. Someday I will see you again and I promise I'll explain everything._

_I love you._

_Aerie. _

And so, after saying her farewells, Aerie put down the quill and rested. She realised now, that was all she had wanted to say.


	3. Neme

What's been going in Faenya Dail since Aerie left?

**Neme  
~*~ **

High above the world, amidst the clean air and white glare of the snow capped mountains, there is a city unreachable by humankind; and even if they could ascend the sheer rock faces the exact location of the city is a closely guarded secret and like other elven settlements the buildings are shrouded by ancient magics. For this city belonged the Avariel, the winged elves. At one time they were a numerous people, but long ago were driven to the brink of extinction. Most common folk now have never heard of them, and very few have actually ever seen one.

But they live on up here, far from the competition and conflicts between other races. Their numbers are few however, and so to them every child born is truly a blessing. One Avariel child, were she human she would have looked around ten or eleven years of age, was returning home. Her speckled wings were spread either side as she glided effortlessly between the stone platforms, the cool air blowing back her long blonde hair. The sandaled feet soon touched down gently on a wide balcony.

"Mother?" The child called as she folded her wings then entered, through the stone columns and archway, into her home. "Father?"

The silence was eerie... but, she had come home a bit early today. Her teacher said he had a headache; it may have had something to do with her asking so many questions about the planes. He'd started it though, and wasn't it his job to answer her questions? He'd said himself that questions were the best way to learn... and anyway, she'd been telling the truth. There was another world inside her wardrobe where a talking Owl named Owlie had been made King... for some reason though, the wardrobe only worked as a portal to this world at night, when everybody was asleep.

Anyway, mother and father weren't home, so the girl was just going to have to find something to do until they got back. Her early return may be just the opportunity she'd been waiting for... there were areas of the house her parents didn't like her to poke around in, saying they were for adults. But no one was around now, and it couldn't possibly hurt for her just to take a look. And so the little blonde Avariel skipped and hummed through the stone building, straight into her mom and dad's room.

She had been in the room plenty of times before of course; but she'd always been forbidden from looking at the scrolls kept locked in the cabinet. But during earlier explorations of the house she had discovered where her mother thought the glass key was still hidden. Retrieving it from under the Eagle statue, the girl took out and started to read one of the scrolls... it all seemed like gibberish, until she noticed a buzz in her head and felt her hair starting to lift slightly. Of course, they were spells! Now with a big grin on her face, the girl continued to read, without giving much thought to the possible peril; for all she knew this scroll would summon nine very hungry dragons right down on top of her... fortunately, it didn't do that. She felt a wave spreading out from her and reaching to the far corners of the room, and then... nothing.

Disappointed, she decided to try another scroll. This time the results were a little more exciting, although she was sure she'd done something wrong; it didn't seem likely that the actual purpose of the scroll was to explode and send you flying against the wall. She felt no heat from the magic and was mostly unhurt... only a little sore from where she landed on her bottom. She was starting to think now that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to play with magic scrolls and that it was time to pack it up before her parents got back... but then she noticed that the wall behind her was flickering.

That was strange; stone walls shouldn't blink in and out of existence like that. The girl picked herself up and looked curiously at the malfunctioning masonry as she straigtened her tunic. She noticed it wasn't the whole wall that flickered; just a section of it, curiously about the size of a door. And then she slapped herself and wondered why she'd never wondered about this before; the hall outside was much longer than this room. There was another room there... a secret room.

Oh, she really loved secrets. But what could her mom and dad want to hide in there? Treasure? Experiments? Or maybe they didn't know about it either... maybe she'd be the first to discover something hidden away aeons ago. Well it couldn't wait any longer, could it?

Exercising an uncharacteristic degree of caution, the girl reached out and tried to touch the surface of the secret door, gasping as a sudden tingle shot up her arm. Other than that, the surface felt like water, so she decided she had to hold her breath as she went boldly through. She emerged on the other side still completely dry, and found... a bedroom.

Okay, so she was quite expecting anything so mundane. Still, whose room was it? Obviously not her mum or dad... somehow, it didn't feel like this room belonged to an adult at all. Everything in it was neat and tidy, like an adult's room, but there were toys on the shelves although they seemed to be losing ground to a growing collection of books. And most of them were children's books... but there was no other child in the house apart from the girl. She was sure she'd have noticed if she had any brothers or sisters running around... so maybe it was actually her room. That is, maybe her parents were planning to move her in here. But then she noticed the pictures and drawings on the walls; those weren't done by her. None of this made any sense...

"Neme!" The girl's heart almost escaped through her throat as she heard her mother call from right behind her; Fayanna must have seen the scrolls and then caught her in a place she wasn't supposed. She was going to be in a lot of trouble...

"I-I'm sorry," the girl turned around and immediately started pleading, "I didn't mean... i-it was an accident!"

"I see," the mother sighed, although with a little smile, "you 'accidentally' opened my cabinet with the key?"

"Um... y-yes," Neme paused a second, and then thought it might be better to try changing the subject, "mother... did you know about this place?" Fayanna looked around the room, her smile fading into distant sadness.

"Come, let us not dally in here. You can help me prepare supper," the mother said, but Neme had asked a question and was determined to learn the answer.

"Mother, whose room is this?"

"Aer..." Fayanna shut her eyes tightly, taking several deep breaths, "I'm sorry, child... I suppose, you are old enough now to know the truth. This room," she paused again, making sure she used exactly the right word here, "this room _belongs _to your sister."

"Aerie... her name is Aerie... she wasn't much older than you when she... when she left... just two years before you were born."

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know."

"Well... when is she going to come back?"

"I... I don't know," Fayanna sniffed, the strain of holding back her tears was becoming unbearable.

"Momma... don't cry," Neme said, still confused about all this but not likeing to see her mother upset. She stepped over and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "Please don't cry... I'm sorry."

"It's alright," the mother wiped away the tears and placed her hand gently on her daughters head, smiling again. "You know, you and your sister are a lot alike... that's why it's very important you realise that when we tell you not to go somewhere by yourself, you have to listen. We only tell you that because we want you to be safe... promise me you'll remember that?"

"I promise," Neme said, "but, when I'm an adult I'll be able to go wherever I want, right?"

"When you're an adult," Fayanna smiled, "but for now, you have to come with me to the kitchen to prepare supper."

"Yes momma," Neme sighed. She knew her mother was right and that she'd have to wait a while before she could go really exploring by herself. And then, when she was old enough, maybe she'd go to where her sister went...


	4. Storm of the Dead

This could have been an episode of The Twelve Labours of Imoen, but it wasn't. It's a slightly silly piece.

**Storm Of The Dead  
~*~ **

Lightning struck a trunk just metres away from Imoen. There had been too much rain fall during the day to set the bark ablaze; instead it cracked and hissed and erupted in a small cloud of steam. The red head had no desire to find out what would happen if it struck her.

"I think I see a small cave," Aerie called out, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" Imoen grabbed the Elf's hand and ran up the hill in the direction she had been pointing.

When the Avariel had said a 'small cave' she hadn't been exaggerating. It was barely big enough for them both to fit inside; more of an alcove really. But it was shelter from the storm at least. With it showing no signs of relenting, neither girl wanted to go out to see if any better cavern was available so they had no choice but to spend the night.

"Stop hogging all of the blanket!" Imoen demanded, tugging the cloth so that it didn't cover so much of the Elf.

"Y-you know, we could have packed another one," Aerie grunted and tugged back, "i-if you hadn't insisted on bringing that stupid stuffed dragon," sitting another corner of the alcove was the object in question that Imoen had picked up at a fete a few days ago. It was about half the size of one of them, and the flashes of lightning outlined its bulbous eyes, oversized beak and hideously green fluffy skin. Imoen thought it was cute, but Aerie considered it one of the most grotesque things she had ever laid eyes on. And she used to live next door to a Pig Lady.

"Listen," Imoen said, her eyes flashing a warning, "I'm prepared to let you say a lot of things, but I do not want to hear you knocking Dwayne the Dwagon."

"I-isn't that how you won him?" Aerie winced and pulled. Remaining defiant even though at this point she knew she'd already lost the tug of war over the blanket; she could see in Imoen's eyes that the human just wanted it more. "Plus we obviously could have used another blanket... w-whereas we've no use whatsoever for that... t-that thing..."

"He's cute! Plus, you never know, do you? He might prove very useful."

"How? W-what possible situation could there be that will require us to have a-a... a tacky toy dragon?"

"You are cruising for a bruising, you know that?"

"It's a... a dumb doll!" Aerie gasped as she finally let go and surrendered the blanket, falling on her side away from Imoen and curling up slightly.

"Come on, kid," Imoen smiled and then said, holding up one side of the blanket invitingly, "we'll just have to scooch closer together." Even though she had emerged victorious, she obviously couldn't let her friend be cold all night. Aerie accepted the invitation, 'scooching' closer so that their heads were touching. "Just don't tell the others about this; especially not Edwin. You know what he's like." In fact, they had shared a blanket and even a bed like this many times; but nothing really happened for people like Edwin to get excited about. It was just nice on cold nights to be able to see each others warmth.

"He might have a heart attack..."

"Really? Well then maybe... nah, we'll just keep it between ourselves."

Another flash and the rolling of thunder made them both turn their heads to watch the storm as it engulfed the forest.

"Bit weird how it came on so suddenly," the red head commented.

"Yes," the Elf answered quietly, in awe of the beauty and destructive power of nature just metres away from her.

"They say lightning never strikes the same place twice."

"Oh," Aerie commented, but she only really heard the words Imoen had said when she replayed them in her head seconds later. "I-I don't think that's true... d-didn't that sad looking dwarf we met say he'd been struck seven times?"

"Yeah, but he was stood on top of a hill begging Talos to do it... he was trying to commit suicide."

"Still, I-I'm pretty sure I've read about places being struck by lightning lots of times."

"Well, it was Jaheira who said it... guess I'll just tell her you said she was wrong."

"Fine," Aerie yawned, "I'm not scared of her."

"I'll tell her you said that too."

"You... y-you wouldn't, really? Would you?"

"Ah, so you're not so sure now?"

"No... I-I know I'm right. Go ahead and tell her, if you want."

Imoen in fact knew that Aerie was right too; it was interesting though to see how much the Elf had changed. While there have always been things she would never go along with because they opposed her morals, in her every day dealings with people the old Aerie would just go along with whatever idiotic suggestion people made even when she in fact knew better than they did. It was good to see her growing in confidence a little bit and challenging people more. Although she was obviously wrong about Dwayne the Dwagon.

"I used to love watching storms when I was little," Imoen reminisced, closing her eyes and allowing the wind fluttering her hair to take her all the way back, "from the towers in Candlekeep you could see the sea as well, with the waves smashing the rocks... awesome..."

"In Faenya-Dail the weather could change very quickly... i-it'll be bright and sunny and then there'll be a blizzard an hour later," Aerie recalled, "Avariel always have to go indoors then... w-we don't want our wings getting wet and damaged. I-it was nice though... me and my friends would sit around and tell stories until the storm had passed."

"Yeah... I don't know why people call it 'bad' weather. It brings them closer together I think. Like we are now."

"Yes," Aerie yawned again, closing her eyes and her head falling gently on Imoen's shoulder; she was nearly out.

"Good night, Aerie," Imoen relaxed herself a bit as well. Of course, she hadn't failed to notice how almost unbearably cute Aerie looked sometimes; almost as cute as herself.

"... night..."

--

The storm kept raging for hours while the two slept. Aerie awoke then into an eerie monochrome world, with the storm still just as strong as when she'd nodded off. Flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the twisted branches and made spectres out of the shadows.

It immediately stuck her as odd for a thunderstorm to last this long, even if it was not unprecedented. But, she actually had more urgent business she needed to attend to; she needed to pee. It obviously wouldn't do to go all over Imoen, not even if she was really mad at her. So she had to risk venturing a short distance away from the alcove and crouching behind a bush. When she had finished her business, and was about to go back, she thought she saw something through the corner of her eye; something that wasn't just a shadow.

When she fully turned there was nothing there. She stood still and listened for a moment... hidden under the wind, she could hear another howling. This sounded more like a human or an elf... sounded like they could have been pain. Her instincts immediately took over from her common sense, and she headed towards the sound thinking someone was lost and hurt in the forest and in need of help. But there was no one... no one living anyway.

She came into a clearing and rested her staff against a tree; with the wind drowning it, it was very hard, even with her big elven ears, to pin point exactly where the noise was coming from. When she next heard the howl, it was very close and its pitch had changed; now more angry and feral. She spun, ready to unleash a swarm of magic bolts on whatever it was.

"Wooarrggg!" A white, semi-transparent figure clad in ancient armor cried as it sped through the air towards her, its jaw hanging open almost as wide as its head.

"Oh," the Avariel relaxed, cursing herself for being so jumpy. It was just a ghost.

"I said, wooarrgg!" The spectre said, stopping just in front of her. "It's like 'woo', you see, only a with a bit more aggression."

"Yes... woo to you too, sir," she said with a quick curtsy.

"Um... I'm a ghost you see..."

"I know."

"People are usually a bit more surprised, at least."

"Oh, I-I've seen ghosts before," Aerie said. She noticed the spirit hanging his head, looking miserable. Obviously it wasn't the reaction he had wanted. "Oh, but... i-if I hadn't I'd have been really scared. My heart may have even stopped."

"You're just... you're just saying that, aren't you?"

"Honestly... look, m-my skins turned completely white!"

"It was like that anyway. It's okay, you don't have to pretend," the ghost sighed, "I suppose it might be nice to just talk to someone living after all these many centuries."

"Centuries?"

"At least... you do tend to lose track of time somewhat when you're wandering the spirit world."

"What's going on?" Imoen bound into the clearing, looking somewhat ruffled. "Who's he?"

"He's a Ghost," Aerie explained.

"I can see that."

"Wooarrggg!" The spirit advanced on the newcomer, who was less impressed and cared far less about its feelings than the elf.

"Oh, cut that out," she waved it off, her hand passing straight through the spirit's incorporeal torso. "We're not tourists... I was just trying to get some sleep over here which is hard enough in this weather without you 'wooarrggging' all over the place."

"What?!" The spirit snapped, completely flustered. "You're complaining about losing one night of your beauty sleep? I've been stuck in this godsforsaken forest for years!"

"I appreciate you needing to keep your spirits up, but can't you do it without keeping us up?"

"Don't you dare start with the ghost puns... you don't think I haven't heard them all before do you? 'Keep your _spirits _up', 'sorry I _spook _'... you wait until you've been dead for centuries. See how funny you think it is then."

"Or what? What will you do? Look," Imoen waved her hand several times again through the spirits torso, "you can't touch me, can you?"

"Ah, but you can't touch me either, see? And I don't need to sleep... but I can see to it that you can't."

"Ahem," Aerie coughed since she at least really did want to get some sleep. "W-who were you in life, spirit?"

"I was a soldier," he explained, unclenching his glare from Imoen. "Caius Ignoramus was my name," the red head snorted loudly. "What? What the hell is so funny about my name!?"

"Um... s-so," even the kind hearted elf was finding it hard not laugh, which Imoen obviously didn't help with. "H-how did you end up here, haunting this forest?"

"I died in battle, although it was in a place far from here. When our corpses were being returned home, they were seized by a necromancer. He planned to raise an army of the undead and conquer these lands... the first part of his plan at least succeeded, and I was one of those reanimated, forced to fight again and against my will."

"What happened?"

"The living warriors found out about his plan far in advance; they had time to erect barricades and build machines of war. When we finally attacked, they were too well prepared. Unable to resist the will of our master we fought until every last one of us was cut down; but although our bodies were destroyed our souls have remained trapped here, unable to pass on."

"You say 'our'... so, t-there are other spirits here?"

"Thousands... just look above you."

"I see," Aerie said, looking starry eyed at the sky as another lightning strike split it in two, "Those aren't clouds... t-this isn't really a storm. Those are the souls of all your comrades, caught up in the atmosphere... amazing..."

"Amazing, but not wanted. As you can see, most of us are still pretty angry about it all."

"I understand... y-you must have loved ones waiting for you on the other side."

"Listen, Ig... Caius," Imoen sighed, "My experience tells me that the only reason you're actually talking to us is because you know what needs to be done to help you pass on. Am I right?"

"I was just going to try and scare you away like the others... I suppose in hindsight though it would have been better to have asked people for help," Caius said, rubbing his chin. "And since you've offered, maybe there is something you can do. You see, shortly after the battle a bunch of priests did try to perform an exorcism. But they were interrupted; the necromancer made one last bid for power which destroyed everything. But the priest's scroll is still here; all it would it take is for someone to finish reading it."

"But, won't it have to be a priest?"

"Isn't she a priest?" Caius said, pointing at Aerie, "she kind of feels like one to me."

"I-I do have the power to heal," The elf said, "but I'm not a priest in the strict sense, no."

"But you are favoured by the Gods," the spirit shrugged, "maybe that will be enough."

"All right," Imoen slapped her palms together, "So we get the scroll, finish the ritual and then you'll let us get some sleep, right? Even if it doesn't work... we promise we'll come back tomorrow with someone that's fully a priest, okay?"

"I give you my word as a Centurian," he said, beating his chest.

"So where is this scroll?"

"It resides in the temple, the entrance to which is just a hundred yards that way."

"Right... come on Aerie, let's get this done quick."

"Er... b-be warned, travellers," The spirit called out after them, "terrible, nightmarish creatures have taken up residence in the temple also." Imoen turned around, and stomped back to look the ghost right in the eye.

"You're still trying to scare is, aren't you?" She glared.

"Um... n-no... it was just a warning is all," The Ghost said, fidgeting with his baldrick a bit.

"What kind of creatures?"

"Well... Kobolds..."

"Those pathetic little lizards?" Aerie raised an eyebrow. "W-why didn't you just ask them to bring you the scroll?"

"Well... we have tried a few times, but... they were really, really mean..."

"Couldn't even scare a kobold?" Imoen shook her head. "Fine, just leave it all to us."

The entrance to the temple wasn't hard to find; just a hundred yards exactly in the direction Caius had indicated.

"How will we get them to give us the scroll?" Aerie asked. "I-I don't want to have to slaughter them."

"Hmm," Imoen thought. She noticed near the entrance a very crude carving of a great winged creature that presumably the kobolds worshipped as a God. "I have an idea... I think it may be even better than the last idea I had."

"Mixing Tea with Coffee and calling it 'Toffee'?"

"Yup... even better than that one..."

--

The Kobolds were all slumbering peacefully around the altar, after a busy day catching rats and other rodents and looting some of the local farms. Of course, the chieftain rested in the highest place on top of the altar itself. They'd actually done a good job cleaning up the place; sweeping away the dust and cobwebs and pulling out the weeds that had grown here after centuries of neglect.

One of the Kobolds twitched as a shadow was cast over him, and then awoke. He looked up and he saw... big dark eyes, green skin, a break... and how tall it was. It just had to be...

"The Great One!" The Kobold screeched in its pitched croaking voice. "The Great One has returned!" The others all awoke and started screeching, hopping excitedly and some scurrying away to hide in the shadowy recesses.

"You sure it's The Great One?" One of the more sceptical among them asked. "Skin doesn't look very scaly... more fluffy. And since when did The Great One wear a blanket over himself?"

"I am the Great One's messenger, Dwayne," Imoen said, trying to make her voice deep and booming with limited success.

"Dwayne!" The Kobolds all screeched in renewed excitement. "Dwayne the Dwagon! A messenger from the Great One!"

"But why don't his mouth move when he talks?" The sceptical one was still sceptical.

"It's, er... telepathy!" Imoen said, having had another brilliant idea. "I am projecting my thoughts directly into your minds."

"Such amazing powers The Great Ones messenger has!" The Kobolds all started prostrating themselves. "What is it The Great Ones messenger wants?"

"The Great One demands you give him the scroll in your possession... so, if you could just hand it over I'll leave to get on with worshipping him by yourselves."

"The one the misty people asked for?" The chieftain had been sleeping next to it. "We don't even know what it's for..."

"That's because none of you are The Great One. Now hand it over."

"Here," the chieftain placed it in 'Dwayne's' gloved hand. "You'll tell The Great One we took good care of it, yes?"

"Of course... so, er... bye, then."

Dwayne turned and walked out. The Chieftain thought it looked a bit strange the way his exceedingly big butt wiggled... but then, Gods obviously weren't like ordinary people.

"Brothers," he said solemnly, "this is a day we remember for generations to come! To be visited by an actual messenger from The Great One himself! I told you we'd be noticed one day."

"Bah... me was a bit disappointed," one of the younger ones said, "thought he looked a bit tacky."

--

Imoen whipped the blanket off, turned around and took Dwayne from Aerie, who had been holding him in place on top of Imoen's head the entire time.

"My back," the elf winced and sat down.

"See... told you he'd be handy," Imoen said, giving the Dwagon a huge hug. "You never believe me do you? But I always turn out to be right."

"B-but... you had no way of knowing a situation like that was going to come up," Aerie insisted, "And... h-how long will it be before anything like it comes up again... if it ever does..."

"There's no need to sulk Aerie... just learn to admit it when you're wrong. Like a grown up would."

"A-are you calling me immature?" The elf stood up, flushed, and placed her hands on her hips. "A woman in her twenties who is hugging a huge stuffed toy?"

"Oh, I get it; you're jealous aren't you? You think he's taking my attention away from you," Imoen grinned.

"That... th-that's ridiculous," the elf said crossing her arms defensively. "H-how could I be jealous of a toy?"

"Aww... it's alright," the red head said, patting Aerie on the head. "He isn't going to replace you," she then sighed, "I suppose I will just give him to some boy or girl in the next village."

"Good... the sooner I don't have to look at him anymore the better."

"Aerie, come on... how can you hurt his feelings like that even after he's helped us?"

"He's just a..." Aerie was interrupted by a very loud crack of thunder. "I-I think the spirits want us to hurry..."

"Here's the scroll... try your best, okay?"

Of course, you never really had to tell Aerie to do that. And she'd never had any trouble reading anything, which was all she had to do. And it worked; Caius Ignoramus appeared before them one last time, smiled, and then departed.

The rest of the night was clear, the pair putting aside their almost sisterly quarrel and sleeping very well under a starry sky.


	5. Surprises

Well here ya go... slash. What some individuals have kept asking for so now here it is. It's non-cannon; none of my other versions of these characters are interested in each other romantically.

**Surprises  
~*~ **

From behind the flickering flames of the campfire, Imoen watched desperately as the exact same scene played out that had been played out almost every night since leaving the Underdark.

Aerie, who had spent the entire day trying to work up the courage to speak to him, took Caiman, Imoen's brother, to one side walking just enough away from the campsite that their voices could not be heard. Judging by the tearful look in the elf's eyes though, it was likely she was again lamenting the loss of her wings, which of course represented the loss of freedom; a very potent metaphor. Imoen didn't care so much for metaphors, but she was wise enough to see that when Aerie spoke of her wings, she was using them as a focal point for all the cruel and unjust abuse that had been inflicted on her. More importantly, the day Aerie lost her wings was also the day on which she knew for sure that she could never go back; that the home of her childhood was lost to her forever.

After her stay as a... a guest, of Irenicus, Imoen found herself thinking more and more of the childhood home she'd lost, Candlekeep, and how she used to feel safe and secure and even somewhat happy within its walls. But she could never go back to it... well, she could. There was little barrier preventing her from physically going to the place, but it wouldn't be the place she remembered. That feeling of being secure and unaffected by all the nastiness that went on outside, that was what was lost. She was sure it was much the same for Aerie too; the Avariel knew inside that even if she could go back and find herself resting in her mother's lap once again there was just no way she could ever really forget about the things she'd already seen and felt for herself.

There was little point in dwelling on the past; seemed there was little way to prevent it either. That was probably why people made friends; so that they could always distract each other and prevent dwelling on the really bad stuff. But not even Imoen could keep herself occupied every entire day playing pranks on her friends. She trying to distract herself now by watching Aerie, but obviously all that did was keep reminding her of her own loss...

Right on schedule, Jaheira appeared then like a lioness locking onto her prey... of course, she wasn't actually planning on eating anybody. At least, Imoen was ninety five per cent sure she wasn't. The druid was just protecting what she obviously, if a bit presumptuously, considered to be her territory. Aerie had a choice between fight or flight; she was tense, trembling but from the little clenched fists and determination in her wet eyes it was clear she had chosen to try and hold her ground whatever the odds. A fight, then; the loser would likely end up spending the next day grooming the coat of the victor.

The alpha male meanwhile had taken a few steps back from the two females whose attention was now focused on each other. Imoen couldn't decide if Caiman looked bemused or amused by all this; the later was more likely. Imoen knew him better than anybody and although he could act he was deep down just a bit of berk; definitely not worth all this fighting over him. She wanted to go over and tell them that, but with emotions being as high as they were it would probably just make things worse. They might assume that she was actually after him as well; Imoen wouldn't know how to begin explaining what was wrong with that assumption.

She didn't want to take sides either. She felt loyal to Jaheira; she wouldn't say she say she saw the druid as mother figure exactly. More like a school mistress. Not exactly the overbearing militant type who tried to instil conformity by simply traumatising the children; but definitely not the softly, softly, 'I'm just like one of you' type that children just walked all over. Rather, Jaheira found the perfect balance between the two. At least she had; but, losing Khalid... it seemed to have definitely tipped her towards militant. Whereas previously if she yelled at or criticised someone, she would give it time for her points to sink in and then make up with them by telling them something they'd done quite well. Now, if she yelled at someone, then later on she would just yell at them again leaving only resentment in her wake.

Aerie on the other hand; well, Imoen just really liked her. When she wasn't crying to Caiman, she was usually very quiet but genuinely sweet, compassionate and nice. Although you shouldn't be fooled; she was also very brave and although she didn't realise it probably the most powerful individual in the group. She'd had her whole life taken from her though; every day the frustration of standing up on her tip toes and finding it just out of her reach just grew and grew. There was only so much she could keep inside though; obviously she did have feelings for Caiman and that had for some reason been what had caused the cork to pop out.

Imoen had actually resented Aerie at first; she'd thought something along the lines that in her absence, while she was being tortured, the rest of the group had decided to replace her with another 'child'. But Aerie was just such a warm, affectionate individual. She'd hugged Imoen, and did more to try and support and comfort her than anyone else in the group. What Imoen found most frustrating about the current situation was that there were other people besides Caiman that Aerie could trust enough to confide in... she didn't have to put herself through this stupid ritual night after night.

Imoen stood and silently walked around the fire towards the 'combatants'. She didn'y know what she would do... in fact, she didn't do anything. She just leant sideways against a tree but was now in a position where she could hear their voices more clearly.

"... pull yourself together!" Jaheira demanded of the elf. That was what Aerie was trying to do. A large part of herself wanted her to just run away. Just say 'y-yes ma'am, I'll let you have him ma'am and just go and quietly sob over there'. Not just because she was scared of Jaheira, although only a fool would not be, but because she didn't really believe she had a chance of actually winning. But the former slave was determined to never again be cowed so easily. Although it wasn't exactly coming naturally, she was trying all she could to fight back.

"I am not your child! I'm older than you are, more than likely," the elf said. Imoen had obviously missed the part of the conversation when Jaheira had called her a child; she called Imoen 'child' as well, and although she actually meant it affectionately it did just come across sometimes as very patronising and annoying. Young and old are obviously relative terms though; at three years old Imoen would have still been a baby. Boo at three was practically ancient. "And the only thing my 'simpering' does is distract you from those little looks you are always giving him!"

"I... I do no such thing! You are mad, girl!" Jaheira did in fact do that thing. Imoen emphatically agreed with Aerie there. There was little point in denying it; if she wasn't interested in Caiman then what business did she have walking over there? "Obviously a life of adventuring is too much for you," and that was a lie too from Jaheira. It wasn't what she really believed. Aerie could handle travelling and roughing it and having to trudge through dirt and slime without any difficulty; it wasn't that different from what she had already been used to in the circus and she had done plenty to prove herself in battle. So far at least, this depression she was having hadn't really affected any of her abilities, although she would have to get over it soon.

So far, Aerie was very much in the right in this argument, but looking at her Imoen could feel her growing frustration and desperation. For her, fighting Jaheira was like pounding her fists against a solid rock; it hurt her, so naturally enough she wanted to hurt it back. But nothing she did seemed to move or affect it in any way and she ended up mostly just further hurting herself, just adding more fuel to her desperation to hurt it.

"If..." the out of breath, red faced elf swallowed and tried to compose herself, "if a life of adventure will turn me into an annoying, heartless woman ready to abandon her dead husband's memory so soon after his death, then... then maybe you're right!"

The whole world gasped and then held its breath; that was a shocking low blow from Aerie. Of course, it was shocking because it was so utterly out of character for her. Even the Avariel looked shocked and horrified to have heard those words coming out of her mouth; she may have succeeded in finally getting a grimace out of her opponent, but she again had hurt herself just as badly.

"You cross a line, Aerie," she had, Imoen agreed with the druid who was still trying to maintain her stony exterior but now had a bit of fire in her eyes as well. Imoen did agree that it was still too soon for Jaheira to start looking for someone to replace Khalid. But despite her stony exterior, inside she was just like most people, probably, and just couldn't stand being lonely. Aerie had been driven into saying it by a combination of factors, but still... someone really ought to separate the two of them so that they could have a chance to cool down before apologising. No one made any effort to do so though. "You do not know enough about love to question my love for Khalid. Mention his name again and you shall regret it."

Aerie face went through about fifteen different expressions in the next few seconds; horror, guilt, sorrow, terror, horror, guilt, sorrow, loathing, despair... eventually however, she decided she still wasn't giving in.

"I don't care!" She screamed twice.

Imoen shook her head; why did no one stop this? If she wasn't going to stop it, why was she still watching? She felt like she was watching a less civilised form of bear-baiting. No, she couldn't cope with this anymore; she was just going to walk away and leave them to whatever fate.

As she did, she was surprised to feel something brush past her, and then catch a glimpse of someone's long blonde hair disappearing into the woods. Looking back, she could see that Caiman was standing on his own. Jaheira had moved a short distance away from him, her expression a mixture of relief and sadness. Having stopped paying attention Imoen wasn't sure what had happened. No actual violence had taken place, she hoped. Had Aerie finally given up? In any case, it would probably be best if someone kept an eye on her.

Aerie had only ran a short distance; she was sensible enough not to lose sight of the campfire. The elf had sat herself against a stump and was sobbing quietly to herself. When Imoen stepped in front of her, the elf's eyes shot up nervously; she was unsure whether the red head had come to help her or chastise her.

"Relax... I'm on your side," Imoen assured her. Obviously she didn't support or endorse what Aerie had said to Jaheira but she understood why she'd said it. Aerie was already feeling guilty about it; she didn't need any further chastisement. What she needed was a friend.

"You... you heard that, didn't you?" The elf said, turning her head away.

"Sure did, bufflehead," Imoen sighed, "You wanna talk about it?"

"I-I didn't mean for it... oh, I just hate myself... I hate this life. W-what more is there to say?" She was clearly very tired now, physically and emotionally. Imoen wasn't about to just let her wallow though.

"What happened there, just before you ran off?"

"He... he said to be strong. Such a hollow, meaningless thing to say... no home, no people... what is there to be strong for?"

So Caiman hadn't made a decision, and that unbearably gruesome scene was likely to repeat itself in the near future. Unless something could done to prevent it... but what? The problem was that Aerie did it to herself; she allowed herself too much time to dwell on what she had lost. The circus had basically told her she was worth nothing after losing her wings and she dwelt on that too; whether or not anyone could see any worth left in her at all. All this pain and frustration came out making her say and do things that weren't in her nature, causing even more pain... Imoen just couldn't stand seeing her friend on this downward spiral anymore. Aerie was a good, worthwhile person, and she needed to be made to see that she didn't need anyone like Caiman to give her a purpose.

"Ouch!" Imoen winced, having deliberately placed her hand somewhere she knew would cause her to do that. Aerie turned herself around, looking curiously at the red head as she was shaking her hand through the air.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing... I just got bitten or stung by something..."

"L-let me see..."

"It's fine... its just a bite..."

"Some of the insects in this forest are very poisonous," Aerie said matter of factly, "you should let me see." The elf hurried over and started to examine the back of Imoen's hand; soon as there was someone who needed help, she quickly forgot about feeling sorry for herself.

"So, am I going to live?"

"I'm sorry... I-I'm afraid you've probably only got about another hundred years," the elf looked up, blinking and smiling.

Time seemed to slow down for Imoen, as she realised she was seeing the real Aerie again for the first time in ages. After a long moment, Aerie opened her eyes, probably surprised that Imoen hadn't responded at all to her jest, and her found herself looking directly into the soft grey eyes of her friend... immediately they both realised how close their faces were and, cheeks flushing, tore themselves away from each other.

"Um... I-I can get you some cream if you'd like," the Avariel said, back facing Imoen awkwardly.

"It's fine," Imoen slowly sighed, "do... do you actually love him, Aerie?"

"I... I don't know," she admitted, "m-maybe Jaheira's right and I'm too young to know what love is, and it's just some silly infatuation... but, w-what if it is real?"

"You don't have to fight like that over him," Imoen shook her head sadly, "its crushing you."

"Believe me, t-the last person I've ever wanted to fight with is Jaheira. But, won't I regret if I just let him go? What... what if I never meet someone else?"

"Well... what if there was already someone else?"

"Who?"

Imoen couldn't hold it in any longer; she just grabbed the elf, spun her round, and kissed her. Imoen felt the elf's muscles tense as she was taken by surprise, but, as their lips were pressed against each others, she started to relax and take it. Imoen let her go, and there was another long awkward moment afterwards.

"You can say something you know," the red head said to break the silence, "it's not like I've got your tongue."

"I..."

"You... you didn't like it, did you?" Imoen felt her heart sinking.

"No... I-I did like it," Aerie said, and the heart was rising up again, "I... I was just surprised."

"I was too, to be honest. I always liked you, but it wasn't you were holding my hand just now that I realised... but don't you see?" Imoen enthusiastically took hold of her hand again, "you don't have to keep fighting... I want to help you, Aerie. I want to make your life worth something... you don't need him."

"Imoen, I," Aerie became lost in thought for a moment, "I did feel something when we kissed. But I don't know what that was... I-I need to think about it," and the heart was sinking again.

"Just promise you won't fight again."

"Y-you have made me feel a lot better," the elf smiled warmly, "now I know I'm worth something. I believe I can get things in perspective now. Just wait a little while longer."

"All right," and up, as Imoen smiled back. The two made their way back to the camp, holding each others hands.


	6. L'Amour Des Pixels

Er... this belongs in the 'insane' category I think...

**L'amour des Pixels **

_**~ Lundi ~  
Cafe Interior; Day **_

"My Lady... Aerie. You have the biggest, bluest eyes I've ever seen. When I look into them I see sadness, kindness, gentleness... I could be lost in those eyes forever..."

"Anomen... I... I'm sorry. I'm afraid I asked you her because... I-I have a confession to make."

"What is it, my love?"

"I'm sorry, but... I have a confession to make. You see... I-I've being seeing a character from another video game."

"I see... I don't know what to say. Who is he? Is it Morte from Planescape? I know he's always had an eye on you..."

"No."

"Not... not Myron from Fallout 2?"

"No... I may be naive sometimes but I'm really not that stupid."

"The Warrior from Diablo?"

"No."

"Surely not Sam, from Sam & Max?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"I've been seeing... Dizzy, Prince of the Yolkfolk."

"But... he's just an egg with boxing gloves instead of hands..."

"H-he's very sensitive and sweet. Ever since Daisy fell from a wall and... and couldn't be put back together, he's needed someone to comfort him. At first that's all it was, but things started to develop..."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know... I think so. I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I have to go..."

_**~Mardi~  
Street Exterior; Night **_

_  
Anomen staggers drunkenly along, falling over some bins and pulling himself with the help of a lamp post that a dog has probably already peed on. He stops, looking longingly up at a balcony where he had spent many a happy evening in the not too distant past. He sees no light inside, but still he calls for her: _

"Aerie! Aerrr-riiiiie!!!" _He bawls._

_A light appears, and then so does she, her eyes filled with anguish and sorrow. For a moment it appears as if she might reach out to him... but behind her, an ominous shadow. A cursed, black, oval, shape. She turns to it, and it engulfs her._

_Anomen, weeping, staggers away. _

_**~Mercredi~  
Street Exterior; Day **_

_Anomen, sober still dishevelled, wanders the streets, lonely as a man who has just been dumped by his girlfriend. And then he sees her on the other side of the road; then he sees him. A big white egg with red boxing gloves and boots attached to it._

_Dizzy swaggers up the towards the corner where Aerie is waiting. Then he jumps, lands on a tarpaulin cover in front of a shop, bounces and spins three times in the air before landing perfectly in front of the elf and producing a bouquet of flowers in his boxing glove hand. Anomen shakes his head. _

"Git."

_**~ Jeudi~  
Cafe Interior; Day **_

"Hello, Aerie."

_The elf looks up, surprised to see her former lover. He seems to be looking much better now. But she glances nervously to the side as the egg returns from the bathroom. _

"Um... Dizzy. This is my friend, Anomen."

"Ah... Aerie speaks a lot about you, Anomen. She says you are a knight?"

"That's right... and, what is it that you do?"

"I appear in a number of 2D platform and puzzle games from the mid-nineteen eighties to the nineties. Mostly I just wander around picking up things and try to use them with other things."

"Sounds very rewarding."

"Sometimes... but it can be quite tedious. I'm afraid I have to go now, my sweet. I have to get the Leprechaun's Wig back into the Cauldron."  
_  
Aerie stands up and they quickly put their arms around each other and kiss... well, she puts her arms around him. Dizzy doesn''t really have arms or legs; just hands and feet of sorts. He then leaves them to talk. _

"Aerie... tell me, what is it you like about him? And please... don't say stability. He hasn't appeared in a game for more than fifteen years. Even if another one was released, you know as well as I that video games have a very limited shelf life. You would only get stability from the work of a writer of classic literature, like Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream, or Chekhov's 'Man Without A Spleen'. Is it just the love making?"

"I-I do really care about Dizzy, but... I don't think we have what I had with you. Is there any chance that we...?"

"I'm sorry Aerie... but it's not possible. You see... I've started seeing a character from another video game too."

_**~Vendredi~  
Street Exterior; Day **_

Aerie wanders the streets, lost and lonely. She looks up, spying Anomen through a glass window laughing over some wine. He then picks up a three foot long baguette, holding it lengthways across the table for his companion; a large yellow round thing with a red ribbon attached to her. Aerie watches in awe as she munches through the entire baguette in one go.

Realising there was no way she could ever compete with someone so full of confidence and beauty, the elf, resignedly, continues on her way.

**~Fin~ **


	7. No One

From that last one though we go on to something a whole lot more serious, with Aerie confronting fear.

**No One  
~*~ **

She could hear dripping. She could smell... something rotten. It was cold and dark and damp and she was lying on her back but everything else was still foggy. She couldn't remember any of the events that had led her to wake up here, wherever it was. She started to count the number of drops and after ten she had remembered her own name. Aerie then started to remember other things as well and had just about gotten through the first twenty or so years of her life when she heard another repetitive sound just a little out of sync with the droplets... footsteps. She had cleared the fog from her eyes enough to see the handle turn and the door creak open.

So, they were coming for her again to play their little game. Unfortunately, it was a game in which there was absolutely no way she could win. If she didn't do what they wanted she got hurt. If she resisted, then they hurt her more. If she did what they wanted then they still hurt her just to prove they were in control. Although to be fair it was probably her own fault for not having done what they'd wanted from the start...

As the figure grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her outside, Aerie wondered where the bracelet she was wearing had come from. Other things didn't seem right either; it was never just one of them who came. There was always at least two very muscular men or women with whips versus one little girl. And to make sure it was completely fair, the little girl was bound; if she ever got out they would obviously have to call for back up.

But this time it was just one man who came. And where were the other slaves? There were hundreds of them in different cells; entire families and other relatives sometimes all crammed into just one together. But she hadn't woke up in a cell, had she? It was more like a cellar... and the adjacent room she was in now seemed to be a rather improvised torture chamber.

"You know," the man said as he went about securing her to the table. Aerie was still in too much of a haze to resist, but things were coming back to her; The Circus, Quayle, Jaheira, Minsc, Imoen... and the killer they had all been looking for. "When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were as bright as you looked. But you figured it out first, didn't you? Pity none of your stupid friends would listen to you, isn't it?" The man grinned. His facial features were best summed up as 'ratty'. "Now it's just going to be you and me down here."

"Y-you're wrong," Aerie tried to answer, but her voice came out as a croak, "my friends are going to find me."

"That's what they all say, Jane."

"J-jane? My name's Aerie..."

"No... I prefer Jane," he said, leaning over her.

"Why?"

"Because it's what I'm going to call you."

"Okay... w-what do I call you?"

"You can call me 'sir' or 'sire' or 'mi'lord' or 'master'... whichever one of those you prefer. I'm not fussy."

It was still a little bit foggy for Aerie but one thing was clear; this man hated her. Even though she was sure she'd never seen him before... at least his face didn't jog any memory. He knew about her though; he must have been watching them as they investigated the murder, waited for her to wander off on her own and then... that smell...

He wasn't as bright as he looked either; he knew if he'd struck her then her magical contingencies could have started working. Instead he snuck up behind and made her breathe in that smell... and she'd smelt it before at the places the others had been murdered. The man Jaheira was after for it was delusional, a fantasist... his story just hadn't made sense. He certainly wasn't someone who knew how to mix chemicals.

Aerie didn't feel much like celebrating her victory though; it meant that he was right too. The others weren't coming... if they were looking for her then they were looking in all the wrong places...

While Aerie was coming to terms with the horrific implications of that realisation, her captor snapped himself upright, his turning and looking up the stairs as if he'd heard something. Maybe they had started believing her after all... but before the elf could cry out he turned back, punching her squarely on the jaw. He'd taken away all her components, symbols and the bracelet prevented her from casting new ones so there was no need for him to be so careful anymore.

When she came to she was back in the other room she'd first woken up in. A room with no windows and only one door which he'd obviously locked. She spent a few minutes sat up trying to wriggle her jaw back into place. She was grateful that the drug seemed to have worn off, but then... was it her or was the room getting smaller?

Of course it was her... Aerie jumped up and started to walk around the room. She'd always had this problem with confined spaces. Her father had said that all Avariel did to varying degrees; of course that may have just been a loving parents attempt to make his child feel like less of a wimp. In any case, she could never feel completely comfortable in a room unless there was a door or window open somewhere... but it was okay, wasn't it? There was air here. She could breathe.

It was hard to believe she had been to the Underdark, and that hadn't made her feel half as afraid as she felt now in some mad man's cellar. But she'd had her friends with her then. Imoen, Minsc, Jaheira; people she trusted... most of the time anyway. And of course she'd had a purpose, a mission, something else to remain focused on.

That was it; she had to focus on something. How about on escaping? The door was solid though and there was no way she was going to bash it down. Even if she knew anything about picking locks... well, there wasn't any lock on this side anyway.

Focus... breathe... she had to keep telling herself to breathe. It was getting warmer in... her chest felt like it had a great weight placed in it. Focus... there was no way she was getting through that door.

"Hippopotamus!" Aerie said out loud for seemingly no reason, leaning back against the wall and shutting her eyes. "Capital H, little i, p, p, o, p, o, t, a, m, u, s..." wonderful. Maybe she could go through the whole bestiary... that would keep her mind focused on other things for a little while at least.

But what was that? She had opened and there was some old rag in the corner covering up something. But she'd only made it half way across the room to investigate when the door creaked open and rat face was back, brandishing a club. He ran at her; she got her arms up just in time to stop it striking her face... at the cost of shattering her arm. He then kicked her in the gut, making sure she wouldn't struggle too much as he dragged her up and back out to that table.

"Look at you," he spat on the elf as he tied her down; although he left one arm, her left one, free. It was the one he'd struck; luckily it wasn't broken. Just hurt a lot. "Just look at you... you know, I hear stuff. The Cowled Wizards and all that lot think you might be some up and coming next big thing... but look what you are without your spells. Just another frightened, weak, girl."

"Right," Aerie gulped. She was frightened; of course she was. There was no way out, the walls were closing in, she could hardly breathe. And she knew exactly what was going to happen next; he was going to take that torch from the wall and then he was going to take her hand, the one he hadn't tied, and he was going to force it into the flame. Only things were going to be different this time. This time she wasn't going to scream. She wasn't weak. "T-that's why I have to be tied down..."

"You're pathetic," he spat again, and again was leaning over her so that she could feel his breath on her ear.

"I-I think that you're frightened by me..."

"Capital P, little a, t, h, e, t, i, c."

So he'd been listening by the door... okay, so she'd gone a little bit mad in there. That hardly mattered; she could see now he was going for the torch. Remember to breathe...

"You still think your friends are going to rescue you?" And now he took her hand. "Hey... maybe they'll come running if they hear you scream..." And she did.

She held out for over a minute, biting down on her lip and clenching her other fist until it started to trickle blood. But she could smell her own flesh burning, the searing pain rising through her arm... it just became too much... there was no way she could win.

--

"C-capital H," Aerie sniffed, "little e, d, g, e, h, o, g." She was coincidentally curled up like one... unfortunately the woollen tunic on her back would offer no protection from predators what so ever. He'd left her alone for hours now; long enough that her tears had all dried up.

The room kept smaller, and warmer... the heat was stifling. Harder and harder to breathe... she had to get out, but there was no way unless she could get this bracelet off. The pain in that same arm had subsided a tiny bit it seemed... focus... that stupid dripping was driving her mad. Drop, drop, drop, echoing through her head... had to get out... the corner...

She pulled away the rag and found some small crates beneath and proceeded to pull each one apart and rifle through their contents. It was all just junk that he must have forgotten about, except... a knife. Big knife... actually, a cleaver. Little rusted, but still sharp. She had to get that bracelet off...

She threw herself on the ground, fingers sprawling as she raised the cleaver... the walls were closing in, suffocating her. She just had to do this one little thing... she had to get out. She had to breathe. She... she couldn't do it. She dropped the cleaver and sat back against the wall, laughing and crying simultaneously.

Focus... try to think rationally. If she had done that, then she'll have passed out within seconds and not have had time to heal herself. There was no way to win.

But wait... she had a cleaver. Why in the world was she thinking of cutting her own arm off with it?

The handle started turning. This was her chance. Aerie took her weapon, stood behind the door and waited for him to step inside. He went down right away, although she had only struck him with the blunt side of the instrument. In spite of everything she wasn't prepared yet to kill him; although a little longer alone in this room and she may have been insane enough. It was pity, because she hadn't knocked him out. He immediately kicked her legs out from under her and was soon on top wrestling the weapon out of her hand, his weight far too great for Aerie to shake him off.

"Guess you are as bright as you look, Jane," he grinned, standing them both up then swinging her around so that her skull cracked against the wall and she fell back down. "I told you, you're nothing," he laughed. And then he stopped; in the scuffle he hadn't noticed someone else steop behind him, tap his shoulder and then punch him in his surprised face.

Aerie didn't see any of this; she was seeing clouds. And the sky and mountains... she was home, and a kindly woman was leaning over her...

"Everything will be alright, child," the woman assured her.

"Momma?" Aerie uttered, softly.

"Not unless she is a very angry druid. You should not have wandered off on your own," the woman took the hand that had been burnt, healing magic flowing into it.

"Ja-Jaheira?" The blonde elf blinked, her mother's face morphing into that of the half-elves. "T-that's just so... wrong..."

"Very. I would have definitely remembered having you."

"H-how did you find me?"

"Well... we found that fella whose diary it was," Imoen said, kneeling next to her friend, "and he confessed... to having been sent here from a small village on the moon to carry out experiments on us. So, then we started doing what you said and looking at alchemists and surgeons and anyone who might have those chemicals. In the end we just got lucky though... found an old guy who said he'd heard someone scream."

"Yes... well, let us not dwell on such matters," Jaheira said. Anyone who didn't know her better might have thought she looked a little embarrassed. "The important thing is that we found you in time."

"That's Jae's way of saying she's sorry, because you were right and she was wrong."

"I suppose so. But do not get used to it."

"You apologising, or you being wrong?"

"Both."

"I-if I hadn't screamed," Aerie thought out loud. She'd been trying prove she wasn't weak... but she had been stronger then she'd be... maybe it was best not to dwell.

"You okay?" Imoen asked, hand on Aerie's shoulder. "You want to get out of here?"

"N-no," the elf shook her head slowly, "not yet."

Aerie stood up and looked across the room where Anomen and Minsc were binding the hands of her torturer. He suddenly seemed very small.

"I'll remember you, Jane," he spat out a tooth.

"It's Aerie," she said, stepping towards him and clenching her fists. "Capital A, small e, r, i, e... remember that," the punch to the face was presumably the full stop.

""What was that, girl?" The man laughed. "Was that supposed to hurt me?" Aerie had to admit to feeling a little disheartened by his reaction... but she did have a back up plan. "I told you you're pa..." he stopped mid sentence, eyes widening with shock and pain. Aerie stepped back, retracting her knee while he collapsed into a ball.

"Do we know his name?" Imoen asked.

"He's no one," Aerie answered. "Now we can get out of here."


	8. Snowball

Just a short, uncomplicated piece written during the recent snowstorms :)

**Snowball  
~*~ **

Imoen's favourite seasons were Spring and Autumn. She was no sun worshipper; during the Summer months she spent most of her time indoors or in the shade, trying to avoid getting burnt. The heat during that time was stifling. During the winter, as it was now, the cold numbed her limbs and decreased her dexterity. Spring and Autumn however were just right. There was a name for when conditions were just right; it was called the 'Goldilocks zone' after one of the stories that had inspired her as a child, about a blonde thief.

But now was winter. The redhead was wrapped head to toe in heavy wool and furs as she crunched through the snow, making far slower progress than she would if the weather had been just right. Still, it amused her slightly to lift her feet and see the perfect outline of her boot left in the white stuff. Looking back she could see all the way she had came, including a pot where she had slipped on some ice and made an angel as she'd struggled to get back up. It amused her even more to look at her own steamy breath and imagine that she was a dragon... it was a pity that she wasn't because then lighting a fire would have been much easier.

She dropped some more wood onto the pile and paused for a moment, gazing between the trees and the grey clouds and white fields beyond. She wondered briefly what happened to the animals that usually grazed there; she supposed the farmers took them in some place and fed them on hay. She then thought about the wild creatures, the birds in particular, those that hadn't flown south and had no roof over their heads. Imoen figured her party could probably spare a loaf of bread; she would tear one up later and scatter the crumbs about for the little animals.

First though she had to get this fire started, as night was drawing near. As she was striking the stone and steel she jerked slightly as she felt something thud into her back. She shrugged it off at first, but then felt it a second time. Straightening up and biting her lip, she looked around at the rest of the party. They all seemed engaged in their own activities, not paying her any attention. Jaheira was preparing some vegetables, while Anomen had gone off to relieve himself (it was still a mystery to Imoen what fully armoured knights did when they needed to go, but it was one activity she had no interest in spying on). Minsc was preparing a small box with some warm bedding for Boo, while Valygar was helping Jaheira prepare the meal, skinning a rabbit he had trapped just before the snows fell. That left Aerie, sat on a log and seemingly engrossed in studying some new spell. Imoen narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

'What?' The Elf mouthed silently, catching the redhead's gaze. Imoen shook her head... she must have just imagined it. The melancholic, well mannered Aerie wouldn't be chucking stuff at her, unless it was one of Baervar's feast days again (followers of that God were required to play a game where they threw acorns at their friends). But Imoen had checked and it wasn't.

She turned back to the fire, but then seconds later felt something cold and soft biting into her neck... spinning around she raised an accusatory finger at the Elf.

"That was you!" The redhead hissed.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Aerie answered, wide eyed, trying to look surprised and innocent. She really wasn't very good at acting; she was clearly fighting to suppress a cheeky grin.

Imoen was furious. She was, she had to admit to herself, something of a hypocrite. She found it funny to wind up and play jokes on other people, but when the tables were turned on her she just didn't take it well at all.

Steaming, she scooped up a handful of the soft white snow and flung at the Elf, missing as Aerie quickly darted away giggling. This made Imoen more furious and she scooped two more handfuls and started lumbering after the blonde. Soon they were both exchanging cold white fire between ducking behind trees and other cover, although Imoen was taking the worst of it. Aerie's people lived high up in mountains where there was constant snow, and so the frosty wind had no effect on her dexterity or coordination as it did Imoen's. Perhaps it was being so at home that had allowed her to revert to the happy, carefree, and mischievous child she had been before becoming a slave.

Eventually however, when she was starting to tire, the Elf slipped and fell, presenting an easy target for Imoen to start pelting.

"That's not fair!" The blonde protested angrily, having just a minute ago allowed Imoen to regain her footing after she also fell.

"When ya' going to learn, Aerrers?" The redhead chuckled, "cheaters always prosper."

In this case the blonde learned quite quickly; while Imoen continued flinging small pellets at her, Aerie uttered the words to a spell which a caused a tree to shake and a bucketful of snow to fall on Imoen's head and for the blonde girl to laugh at her opponent who had fallen on her butt.

"So that's the way you want it, huh? No holds barred," Imoen said, shaking the white stuff from her hair. "Fine; let the extreme snowballing commence..." she grinned, summoning a blizzard around the Elf. Aerie responded in kind, and soon the whole area around the campsite was engulfed by twisting cones of snow. From a distance it must have looked like one those glass bowls you shake.

Suddenly finding herself ankle deep in snow, Jaheira sensed that things may have gotten a little out of hand over there. Leaving the dinner, she marched forth intending to bring the two girls to heel.

"Enough games, both of you!" The druid barked. Imoen turned on her, snowball in hand, but upon seeing Jae's serious expression thought better of using it. She and the blonde put their hands behind their backs, swaying furtively under the druid's hot stare. "Unless you would rather not eat, I suggest you find wherever you have buried the fire and get it lit."

Believing she had gotten them in order, Jaheira turned around to march back to the food. Imoen looked at Aerie, snowball still in hand and the two shared a shrug; it was just impossible to resist.

Jaheira stopped and straightened suddenly as the cold white stuff splashed over the back of her head. She turned slowly about, her eyebrows forming a perfect V and her lips contorted into a snarl.

"Who-threw-that?!" She literally growled, slowly. Fearfully, Imoen pointed at Aerie.

"Oh, y-you liar!" The Elf protested, equally fearful.

Jaheira was not deceived, but she knew it was Aerie who had started the snowball fight. She'd had just about enough of both them. Still growling, she scooped up some snow in both hands and charged wildly at them, throwing the pellets with tremendous velocity, and then did the same again and again. The two girls turned as one and fled from the onslaught.

Anomen stumbled back from wherever he had been soon after, emerging from the bushes straight into the path of a cold white bullet. Minsc too got caught in the melee and even Valygar after he had been struck several times.

It was some time before finally everyone gave up due to exhaustion and staggered back to where they guessed the camp was, grinning and giggling and laughing.

Winter, in Imoen's opinion, wasn't as bad as Summer. There was something about it that seemed to bring out the child in everyone.


	9. Heroes and Villains

**Heroes & Villains**

Rows of houses rested silently in the moonlight. Nothing stirred within them... which was kind of creepy. It didn't help Imoen that Aerie was being so quiet either. There were people in these homes until recently; in the Inn they found fresh fruit and vegetables. But not a trace of fauna.

"Where'd everyone go?" The redhead asked. She and her usual number one sidekick had been travelling just a couple of days and this was the first habitation they had come across. "Did they just vanish? What if something happened and everyone vanished... imagine that; we could be the last two people left in the whole world..."

Aerie looked up from behind the bar, furrowing her brow.

"I'm still not playing with you," the elf huffed.

"Oh, why not?" Imoen threw her hands up; she couldn't believe Aerie was still mad about that card game.

"You know why; I caught you cheating. Y-you didn't really think you'd get away with it, did you? We had gamblers come to the circus; I've seen every trick there is."

"So you caught me. I won't do it again, then. Besides, we can play another game."

"You'll only play games you can cheat at, so there's no point. You just can't stand the thought that I might beat you. That's why most of the time we're sparring you've suddenly twisted your ankle o-or you've 'caught' menopause... don't know why I let you get away with that one..."

Imoen straightened up, placing her fist on her hip. Her honour had been challenged and she really ought to put Aerie in her place... except she wasn't entirely sure that she could. She'd heard a story once about a katana wielding monk who never lost a duel, and when they asked him his secret he said before a fight he would 'feel' his opponents energy and if it was too strong, he backed out. Imoen was the same with Aerie; the blonde hadn't great stamina but was in fact more skilled with a weapon, but some days Imoen could 'feel' that the elf wouldn't try hard to hurt her. But on other days she could see the absolute determination in her friend's eyes and so the redhead just had to make an excuse, or change the subject...

"Heh... y'know my brother when he was small," Imoen reminisced, "he wanted to get out of archery practice and... he must have overheard one of the older girls saying it and so he told the teacher he couldn't go because he was having his period..."

Aerie sniggered, her frown turning upside down for a moment but she soon remembered. "No! I-I'm still mad at you..."

"Fine," Imoen sighed. It didn't matter; Aerie would have forgotten about it by morning, anyway. She always did.

"T-these people didn't vanish, anyway," the elf sighed, "they packed some things and left."

"The whole village?" Imoen shook her head. "Why? Air seems okay... didn't see any sign of any Orcish horde on the way here. C'mon... maybe there's a temple or meeting hall we might find clues in."

* * *

"You're wrong, you know," Imoen made some conversation as the pair made their way through the ghostly village. "I don't cheat. Well, not all the time anyway. You wanna know why it is you never beat me? Because you are right in that you really should win, at least sometimes."

"Why?" Aerie said with a reluctant sigh.

"You do it to yourself most of time. It seems like any time you get close to getting something you want, there's this little paranoid part of your brain kicks in telling you don't deserve it and then it blows it for ya. You're probably not aware of it most of the time, but I see it."

"So why are you telling me this, now?"

"Do you really need to ask that? I'm a little bit of a cheat, sure... it's how I survive. But you're my friend and I want you to know, you shouldn't be paranoid. You deserve to have good things happen to you."

"You too, Imoen," the elf started to smile again, "and, y-you know I'd stick with you, even if I thought you were a loser."

"Thanks, kid," Imoen smiled too. She already knew that was the case, but it was always nice to hear.

"I mean... l-lets face it, every other Bhaalspawn we've met so far has been about ten times more powerful than you..."

"Er... yeah, okay," Imoen was smiling a bit less now.

"The odds of you or anyone following you making it to The Throne must be pretty slim... it's crazy to be siding with you and not any of them..."

"We _were_ kind of having a nice moment there..."

"But I met you first," the elf sighed, "and none of the others have been as nice as you..."

"Okay, that's nice again. Let's leave it there."

"Y-you're as insecure as me beneath that 'eternal child' act, aren't you?" Aerie kept grinning facetiously.

"That's it... now I am going to kick your elven arse..." Imoen tried to put the blonde in a headlock, but the elf managed to slip out and run away, still giggling. The redhead was faster though and caught and tackled her very quickly.

"I-I-Imoen!" Aerie croaked as she struggled to her knees; the redhead still had an arm around her neck, and the other one holding the elf's hand behind her back.

"You give?" Imoen asked.

"No... l-look," the blonde pointed with her free hand.

They'd found the villagers; or rather, the villagers had found them. They must have been hiding round the backs of some of the houses and came out when they heard the scuffle, all brandishing torches, pitchforks and other farming implements rather threateningly.

"She, er," Imoen let her friend go and rose slowly to her feet, "she doesn't like taking her medicine."

"What do we do, Jim?" One of the men asked. "They could be the ones..."

"Them?" Another asked incredulously, "they look harmless to me."

"Can't judge anyone by appearances... they could be witches or demons in disguise!"

"We're not demons," Imoen sensed a great deal of fear around here; why else would they have been hiding? Fear could make people do some pretty strange, unpredictable things, as she knew well. She made sure they could see her hands, that she wasn't carrying any wands or weapons. "We are witches, but we're just passing through. We thought you'd all left for some reason."

"Things go on like they are, and we surely will," a man who stood a little in front of the others said. Maybe that was 'Jim'. "Seems like someone's put a curse on this place."

"They said they were witches! It must be them," another man said.

"You idiot!" Declared an old woman. "Why would they tell us that if they were responsible for all that's been happening?"

"You know how wise old women always are," Imoen said, "I'd listen to her. We really don't want to hurt anyone."

"Tilda ain't wise... she's the village who... owww!"

"You wash your mouth out young man! The term is 'prostistute', n'it's the oldest profession in the world..."

"Yeah... and you were there when it started... owww! Stop hitting me with that shovel!"

"Enough!" The leader of the mob boomed. "Maybe they are responsible, and maybe they ain't. If they ain't and they witches like they say, then maybe they can help. I say we take them to Roy and let him decide."

The two adventurers didn't resist as some villagers approached cautiously and disarmed them; Jim made sure they handed over spell books and components too. Like Imoen said, they really didn't want to hurt them anyway. They had to find out what was going on and earn their trust.

"Should we tell them who we are?" Aerie whispered as they were led to the village hall.

"What? That I'm a Bhaalspawn and you're a wingless winged elf?" Imoen whispered back. "Nah... they'll think we're strange and confused."

"W-which we are..."

"We are... but we must keep that fact a secret."

It seemed like everyone in the village had packed their stuff and locked themselves in the meeting hall. Roy was in a room at the back, a sort of office although there weren't a lot of books or papers. He was presumably mayor or constable or both. Likely he'd got his position simply because he'd managed to be alive longer than everyone else, apart possibly from Tilda.

"It's never easy you know," he said, sitting behind the desk opposite them, "the community would fall apart if it didn't have someone to look up to. Who always appears to be strong and in control, able to make all the tough decisions. But the truth is I'm as scared out of my pants as everyone else here. And so, who are you?"

"Yes," Imoen nodded sagely.

"Well?"

"Oh... sorry. I thought it was a rhetorical question. I'm Imoen and this is my sidekick, Aerie."

"Sidekick?" Aerie shot a glance at the redhead. "S-so much for us not appearing strange and confused..."

"You are... you know you are."

"And you're witches?" Roy asked hopefully.

"We're adventurers. Had a bit of business up north, and now we're on our way back to Athkatla to meet our friends there."

"Your friends wouldn't mind if you were delayed, would they? We're in trouble here, you see..."

"Yeah, I'd figured that. Why'd you leave your homes and lock yourselves up in here?"

"Thing is, we're not sure. Someone, or something, is out there trying to scare us... and succeeding. At first it was just strange noises in the night... thought it was just children having fun. But then, Mrs Norris' cat showed up on her doorstep," Roy went slightly pale, "it... had been dissected. Then other people's pets started disappearing, and showing up again the same way. Started happening to livestock too. Of course, we sent people out to search the hills and woodland but they found no sign of anything... and then there was this," Roy opened a drawer, taking out a scrap of paper and handing it across to Imoen. "It was nailed to the door of the Inn."

"'Pity the land that breeds no hero'?" Imoen read out.

"No idea what it means. Everyone thought it must be some kind of threat. No one felt safe in their homes and this was the last straw; everyone came here. I've sent a messenger to the local Lord, but even if she makes it there it'll be days before any help arrives, if it does. And who knows what else could happen before then."

"Aerie?" Imoen handed her friend the note.

"I-it's from a play I think," the elf said, "I can't quite remember; I wish I had my books."

"How would knowing what play or whatever its from help us?" Roy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Might tell us something about the mind of whoever left it," Imoen explained, "if we can work out what they're thinking it would make them easier to track down, or at least what they'll do next."

"I see. Unfortunately, this isn't a very literate community. Maybe..." the door creaked open, and a bearded man in his thirties limped inside carrying a tray of drinks. "Ah, just the man. Percy, you have a few books in your house, don't you?"

"Sure," Percy shrugged as he placed a cup of water down for Imoen then limped around to Aerie. "What of it?"

"The elf lass here thinks that note from the Inn might be a quote from a play."

"Hmph... could be, I suppose," Percy looked sideways at Aerie as he put her drink down. "Don't have a lot of plays though. Mostly just manuals for stuff."

"A-alchemy?" Aerie asked. Percy intensified his stare.

"Now what makes you say that?"

"Your hands... t-they're a bit discoloured... sorry, I-I didn't mean to pry..."

"Use chemicals for cleaning," he explained, releasing her from his gaze. "Got a few plays on the shelf in my front room though. Go and have a look if you want. Sure the mayor can tell you where my house is; me, I'm not taking a step outside," he said, and abruptly left.

"What's his problem?" Imoen asked the mayor.

"Percival... he likes to keep to himself. Especially after what happened a couple of years ago."

"Why? What happened?"

"Had a group of bandits raid the village. Percy, well, he tried to be a hero. Tried to take them all on by himself... didn't do much to slow them down. It was them who busted his leg; since then he just lives in his house by himself and does odd jobs here and there."

"What happened to the bandits?"

"Oh, some paladins came after them. They're long gone, I'm sure..."

"Hmm... well, I think we've heard enough. We'll see if we can get to the bottom of this."

"Oh... thank you very much!"

* * *

"He was lying," Aerie said, as they stood outside Percival's home at the very edge of the village, "c-chemicals like that aren't used for cleaning."

"Yeah, I know," it been bothering Imoen since they'd left the hall. She didn't know what it meant; that man was clearly up to something, although it might be anything to do with the recent goings on. "Well, it's as good a place as any to start. Let's poke around."

The inside of the room seemed pretty normal; a few small paintings over the fireplace, cupboards, shelves and a few books... but Percy had lied about them too. They weren't manuals for anything; they were plays.

"Here!" Aerie was by the fireplace. "I-I've found the quotation. It's bookmarked..."

"What does it say?" Imoen asked.

"'Pity the land that breeds no hero'. B-but then the next line is, 'no... pity the land that needs them.'"

"What does it mean?" Imoen thought out loud, turning back round.

"I think..."

"What?" Imoen asked, but her friend had suddenly gone very quiet. "Aerie...?" She turned around again, just in time to see the plank swinging towards her head.

* * *

_What a bufflehead_... Imoen thought of herself as she came around. She'd been too laid back. She;d forgotten that as powerful as she and Aerie were, all it ever really took was one lucky blow and it was over. She should have been more alert, more cautious.

She was sitting up, her wrists tied to a post... actually, some animals. She could hear a goat behind her. She was in a barn and, she was relieved to see, Aerie was next to her coming round as well, although she was also tied.

"Aerie?" She said her friends name, still more than a little worried.

"Er... I-I'm okay. You?"

"Just a headache."

"Adventurers, huh?" Imoen squinted, her vision still a little blurry, but... yup, there was Percival sat on a barrel smoking a pipe. "Heroes... couple of girls," he said disgustedly. "You know, I really shouldn't be smoking this in here."

"Guess that legs not busted as bad as people thought," Imoen observed.

"Little slower than I used to be, but I get around okay."

"Well enough to catch all those pets?"

"Just had to lure them here, set a few traps. It was easy."

"But why do it?"

"See, my father was a hero; a knight. And his father before him, and his father before him and so on and so forth. Me? I don't have a son... not likely to now. Slags round here won't even look at me... all I've got is this legacy, see?"

"Not really... I mean, I get you tried to stand up to those bandits. That was heroic; I'm sure your father would have been proud."

"Nah... my father would have seen me as a failure, same as they all do."

"I'm sure that's not true..."

"What the hell do you know?" Percival eyes bulged in anger. "You weren't here; you didn't watch it happen like they all did. Oh, yeah... just like now, they just locked themselves indoors and waited for it to blow over. Not one of them cowards came to help me... and then, after, have they ever thanked me for trying to protect their quivering asses? Never! All I get is pity... I don't want their stinking pity!"

"So what do you want? A plaque? Statue? A school named after you?"

"Something like that," Percy relaxed himself and grinned. "What, you gonna tell me that heroes, real heroes, don't do it for the recognition? I reckon that's a load of crap; you want medals, the adulation...don't know about your elf friend there, but we humans only have a short time in this world. It's all about leaving behind a legacy."

"Well... it is nice to have some fans," Imoen admitted, "gotta watch out for the weird ones though... caught a boy pinching my laundry once. He wanted my knickers."

"So... the quotation," Aerie said in a desperate bid to stay on topic. "'Pity the land that breeds no heroes...?'"

"'Pity the land that needs them,'" Percy smirked, "it's true, don't you think? If people don't need heroes, then its because there are no monsters or villains to threaten them, and all those cowards who don't stick up for themselves or anyone else would have nothing to worry about. Heroes need monsters."

"And so... s-since you think you failed to be a hero..."

"I'll be a villain," he grinned.

"What are you going to do?" Imoen asked.

"Nah... I'm not going to tell you my evil plan. I just needed you to know the why. Suffice to say, they're all huddled together in that hall hoping, praying for dawn to come. But when it does... it will be their last."

* * *

"Come on, Billy... you can do this!" Imoen said, trying to encourage the goat to gnaw through her ropes. It started to a while ago, but now it was just licking her, or so it seemed. "Come on... you're not with him, are you? He keeps you prisoner here..."

"I-is it true, what he said?" Aerie asked, "d-do you worry about your legacy? How you'll be remembered?"

"Nah, not really," Imoen sighed, "I guess some people do, but I don't really see the point. I mean, nothing we do is going to last forever anyway, so we might as well just enjoy here and now."

"Yes... t-that makes sense. Although, Nalia does say we ought to be more ambitious."

"I am ambitious. What about my plan for a Drizzt themed holiday camp? And they'll be lots of little Catti-Brie's to show people around and you'll get to ride Bruenor's Battlehammer..."

"She says you're childish, too..."

"She can shut up! I'll smack her face when I see her," Imoen was more concerned however about the goat had made so little progress. She could feel its tongue in her hands, or at least something warm and wet. "What's wrong with this thing?" She craned her neck round to see, and then, looking somewhat unhappy, turned towards the elf. "Aerie... why didn't you tell me that the goat had turned around?"

"I was preoccupied," the blonde sniggered impishly.

"I... am going to kill you, I think... yeah, that's what I'm going to do..."

"I-in that case," the elf grinned as she lifted her hands up, "I guess it wouldn't be wise of me to untie you as well."

"How...?"

"There were some nails sticking out over here."

"You... fine, I won't kill ya... yet. Just get me out, and then find a bucket of water and some soap."

Once they were free, and Imoen's plans for vengeance on hold for the time being, they went to see what was in the barrels. Percy had said he shouldn't have been smoking that pipe in here, and they saw why; the barrels were full of alchemical materials... a little spark have blown them all into a different plane.

"There must be a basement or cellar beneath the village hall," Imoen reasoned, "he's got them all to gather in place, and then... he's going to blow it up."

"W-why didn't he kill us when he had a chance?" Aerie asked. It had been bothering Imoen for a while too, but now it all made sense.

"He wants the recognition... and for that, he needs witnesses. All right; you go get the mayor. Tell him to get all the people out of there... I'm going to find Percival."

* * *

She found him. It wasn't easy finding the door to the cellar; it had been covered by boxes of stuff. But she did, and he was in it, tinderbox in hand. The door creaked when it was opened, so she wasn't able to sneak up on him. Soon as he saw her he started trying to light the powder trail he'd made. Imoen whipped out a wand, sending an orb crashing into his arm. He gasped, dropping the box and scurrying back behind the barrels, Imoen was in pursuit when she paused and took hold of her situation...

Crap... he must have been planning this for months. There were dozens of barrels, piled up all around the room. If she kept throwing magic around in here she could set it off...

He lunged at her... must have crawled round to come at her from the other side. She narrowly avoided the blow, and falling back she kicked out, striking him in the chest. He grunted, but kept coming at her. Imoen was able to avoid him, but he kept moving forward so aggressively that she was unable to counter attack. Even her stamina wasn't limitless though, and after a while of dancing around him dodging his wild lunges she started to tire and eventually was caught and sent back, her head bouncing off the brickwork.

"Good guys don't always win," Percival sneered, picking up and striking the tinderbox.

"No," Imoen agreed, rubbing her head as she slowly got up, "but then, I didn't really have to win the fight. Just had to keep you occupied."

"Huh?" He paused, looking at her questioningly

"By now, Aerie's told the mayor what's happening and everyone's gotten well away. It's over, Percy. There's no point in carrying on with this now."

He looked at her. Then he looked at the tinderbox. Then he started grinning and striking it.

"Are you crazy?" Imoen gasped. "They're all gone! There's no point..."

"You're wrong," he laughed, "they'll never ignore me again after this. They will remember this... always..."

He _was_ crazy... Imoen could do no more than shake her head sadly as she watched the sparks of the ignited powder trail while he knelt and laughed. There was no saving him; no time to. She had to run as fast she could...

"Imoen?" Aerie and the villagers were all outside like she'd hoped.

"Run!" Imoen shouted urgently. "Everyone, run! Don't stop... trust me!"

There was a little bit of confusion, but soon everyone was moving hastily away from the hall. Luckily most of the villagers had already had the sense to start putting some distance between themselves and it.

It was about a minute later when the explosion lit up the sky. By then everyone had gotten behind some of the other houses, although it was still a miracle that no one got hurt by flying debris. Imoen and Aerie used their magic to help put out the flames which danced and lashed into the morning.

"What happened to him?" Aerie said, wiping some of the ash away from her face with her forearm. "He wanted to be a good man at one point... a-a hero..."

"Yeah... but he wanted it for the wrong reasons," Imoen sighed.

"What... w-what causes people to go wrong like that?"

"Don't know, Aerrers. Don't think anyone does... not really. It's not a particularly satisfying answer, but it's the truth. Life's just complicated."

"I suppose so," the elf bowed her head sadly.

"Don't dwell on it too much. Fancy a game, now?"

"What game?"

"Noughts and crosses? C'mon... there's no way I could cheat at that."

"Hmmm... well, we'll see, won't we?"


End file.
